


Shifting Tides

by SeemaG



Series: Tightrope [7]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG
Summary: Voyager has been in the DQ for nearly a week and as they adjust to their new life as members of a Starfleet crew, some of the Maquis are evaluating where their loyalties lie.
Relationships: Chakotay/Seska (Star Trek)
Series: Tightrope [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797067
Comments: 28
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to the marvelous Rocky for her beta. 
> 
> Part of the Tightrope series.

_I could suffice for Him, I knew—  
He—could suffice for Me—  
Yet Hesitating Fractions—Both  
Surveyed Infinity—  
  
"Would I be Whole" He sudden broached—  
My syllable rebelled—  
'Twas face to face with Nature—forced—  
'Twas face to face with God—_

_Withdrew the Sun—to Other Wests—  
Withdrew the furthest Star  
Before Decision—stooped to speech—  
And then—be audibler  
  
The Answer of the Sea unto  
The Motion of the Moon—  
Herself adjust Her Tides—unto—  
Could I—do else—with Mine?_

_~ Emily Dickinson_

Her sixth morning on _Voyager_ , Seska opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Without looking, she knew B’Elanna – who had been assigned the other bunk in these quarters – still hadn’t returned from her overnight shift. After a few minutes, Seska swung her legs over the side and padded into the bathroom. The shower offered both water and sonic options, but it had been stressed heavily in the debriefing the previous day that sonic showers were preferred. After their run-in with the Kazon, Seska didn’t need to be told twice that water was a precious commodity in this particular sector.

The sonic pulses massaged her sore muscles, and it felt good to be clean. Showers – whether water or sonic -- had been a rare luxury during her undercover stint in the Maquis. Over time, Seska had grown immune to the bouquet of scents that permanently hung over both the _Val Jean_ and their base camp at the edge of the Badlands.

After her shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and then stood in front of the mirror; even after all of this time, she was still not used to seeing a Bajoran face reflected back at her. According to Starfleet regulations, her loose hair couldn’t come past her collar, and so she awkwardly twisted it into a knot at the back of her head. As she eyed her reflection, she noticed a few stray hairs framing her face, as well as the droopy nature of the bun. She pulled it down and started over, this time pulling even tighter. The second attempt was better, but her part was uneven. Seska gritted her teeth. If she wanted to look the part, she had to get it right.

Seska shook her hair free, and then carefully parted her hair and then pulled it back straight and pinned it into place. She twisted her head from side to side and decided it was good enough. Since the announcement that Chakotay and his Maquis crew were going to join _Voyager’_ s crew under Janeway’s command, Seska and others had been spending most of their time learning and absorbing the regulations under which the ship operated, including the appropriate grooming protocols and mandatory medical evaluations at least once a year. It had been dull reading but Seska had plowed through doggedly and now, today, she was to officially report to duty as a Starfleet officer.

 _Starfleet officer._ She laughed lightly. If only her colleagues in the Obsidian Order could see her now as she struggled to transform herself into the very image of a Starfleet officer. The uniform she’d been assigned had yellow on the shoulders, but the rest of the jumpsuit was black. The grey turtleneck that went under the suit fit snugly. Seska then pulled on her boots. Impractical things, she thought, as she yanked the highly polished high-heeled boots onto her feet. In the Maquis, and even in the Obsidian Order, she’d gravitated towards looser clothing, more comfortable footwear; clothing that facilitated movement, not impeded. But Chakotay said they would be members of a Starfleet crew and until she had a better idea of the next step, she would play along.

At the debriefing held a few days previously, Chakotay had announced that Janeway had allocated extra rations for the next week to the Maquis crew.

“The captain acknowledges we lost everything when the _Val Jean_ was destroyed,” Chakotay had said, as he stood in the center of the cargo bay, looking entirely too comfortable in the Starfleet uniform. He had surveyed his group – 30 Maquis, _former_ Maquis – in all with a stern, formal eye. “So, she has agreed to allocate us the necessary provisions to allow us to replicate necessary items, including uniforms.”

Seska had used some of her extra rations to replicate some casual clothing and a couple of trinkets to place on the shelf in the quarters she shared with B’Elanna. B’Elanna had done the same. While it was impossible to replace the lost photographs or holographs of loved ones, some of the other Maquis had talked about replicating other cherished objects that had been lost with the _Val Jean_ to make their quarters feel more like home.

“Don’t you find Starfleet décor a little bit uptight?” Mariah Henley had asked with wide-eyed dismay after she’d been shown her quarters. “No personality, no fun, no _nothing_.”

Seska had brushed off the remark. She very rarely had patience for Henley. How Henley had even managed to join the Maquis – with her earnestness, her naïveté, her inability to understand the severity of any situation…the list went on and on. But surveying her quarters now, Seska did have to concede the point to Henley. The walls and floors were grey, the furniture was as well or else maroon, and the two beds were nothing more than basic mattress with a rectangle pillow at the head, with sheets and blankets folded at the foot. Perhaps she would save up her rations for some more attractive comfortable bedding.

After taking stock of her appearance one last time, Seska headed to the Mess Hall for breakfast. When she entered, she saw B’Elanna sitting at a table at the far end of the room with some of the other Maquis, including Henley. There was a long line of Starfleet types standing in line for the food the Talaxian, Neelix, had whipped up. Not wanting to stand shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Freddy Bristow and Pablo Baytart, Seska decided to spend some of her precious rations at the replicator instead, and then carried her tray of food to the table.

“Morning!” Henley said gaily.

Seska ignored her and turned her attention to B’Elanna. “Did you work late yesterday? I expected you back after Beta shift ended.”

B’Elanna shrugged. “Spent most of the shift inspecting the plasma relays and came across some sticky valves. I decided to fix them.”

“I hope they appreciate you in Engineering,” Henley said. “You’re so good at what you do.”

“Not quite by the book but…” B’Elanna stabbed at her breakfast with her fork. Other than Chakotay, B’Elanna was one of the few who had some ‘Fleet training, thanks to her short stint at the Academy. For that reason, as well as the fact that Engineering was currently short-staffed, Janeway had allowed B’Elanna to start work a few days earlier than the rest of the Maquis.

“What was it like?” Seska asked. She had always been good at following orders, but she was better at giving them.

“An engine room is an engine room,” B’Elanna said, “and once you’ve met one Starfleet officer, you’ve met them all.” She looked at the rest of them. “When do you start?”

“I’ve got Beta myself, but I hear Gamma’s the _worst_ shift,” Gerron said. 

B’Elanna scowled. “The ship has to be manned 24/7,” she said. “What difference does it make when you’re assigned?”

“Alpha’s supposed to be the best shift and you don’t notice any of the Maquis on that,” Gerron said. He pushed his empty plate back, his brow furrowing. “What do you think, Seska?”

“I’ve been assigned to Alpha shift in Engineering for today,” Seska said. A flash of surprise crossed Gerron’s face. Seska knew that her assignment to Alpha was Chakotay’s doing – likely so that their schedules would coincide.

“Well, good for you,” Gerron said. “I’ve been assigned to the science lab.” He looked unhappy. “No other Maquis are there. I’m the only one.”

“If you have a problem with your schedule, Chakotay is the one who determines them, not some faceless ‘Starfleet regulation’. You should talk to him,” B’Elanna said.

“Easier said than done. I haven’t seen him since the debriefing,” Gerron said. “What about you, Seska? I’m sure you have.”

Seska cleared her throat. “No.”

“Something wrong?” B’Elanna asked sharply.

“I haven’t seen much of Chakotay, that’s all,” Seska said, schooling her features into a more neutral expression.

“He has to be very busy. First officer of a Federation starship,” Henley said in a tone that bordered dangerously on hero worship.

“The very organization he fought against,” Seska said. She turned her attention back to B’Elanna. “It seems like he’s forgotten all about us in his hurry to put that uniform back on.”

“I agree, Seska,” Gerron said. He surveyed the room. “It’s a little ridiculous, isn’t it, that we have to spend the next seventy years with the people sent to capture us?” He shook his head. “I don’t like it, not at all. When I talked to Ayala, Dalby and Bendera last night, they told me that they feel the same way.”

B’Elanna sipped her coffee. “You got a better idea?”

“Look at us,” Gerron said, as Henley’s expression seemed to grow more despondent. “We’re already being treated as second class citizens on this ship. Put on Gamma shift, shunted to the side.” With a knowing look at B’Elanna he said, “Or spend the entire shift in a Jefferies tube. Bet they don’t ask the Starfleet officers to do that stuff anymore, not when they have us to order around.”

B’Elanna grimaced. “We’ve been through all this already. Do you want to spend the next 70 years in the brig? Or have _Voyager_ drop us off on a planet somewhere? Cram all 30 of us into a shuttle craft and make it back to the Alpha Quadrant alone?”

“No, but we Maquis deserve some rights. And I’m surprised you’re not more upset about it,” Gerron said, his cheeks flushing red. “You’re the best engineer on this ship and Joe Carey stuck you in a Jefferies tube to recalibrate a few plasma relays? Ridiculous.”

“I’m still learning this ship and its systems,” B’Elanna said, but Seska picked up on the quiet tension in her voice. Later, she would ask how B’Elanna _really_ felt. She had no doubt that the half-Klingon could run circles around the Academy-trained officers. That B’Elanna was uncharacteristically subdued was interesting to Seska; surely, something was up. “And you still haven’t answered my question. Do you have a better option?”

“You should talk to Chakotay,” Gerron said, addressing his question to Seska. “He’ll listen to you.”

“Sure,” Seska said. She was unclear as to what Gerron’s endgame was, exactly, but she wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to reinforce her status as Chakotay’s second-in-command and close confidante. She was still contemplating the situation when she saw Tom Paris enter the Mess Hall. “Look what just walked in.”

B’Elanna twisted around to see. “That _p’tak_ ,” she said, her lip curling. “Not only did he let us down by getting captured on his very first mission, he helped the ‘Fleeters come after us.” Her jaw tightened, but Seska noted how her friend’s eyes tracked Paris’ every movement until he sat down by himself at a table by the window. “The Maquis have a way of dealing with traitors…”

Seska caught her meaning immediately. Even if the Starfleet uniform had temporarily blunted B’Elanna’s edge, there was still a flash of steel in her eyes. “Except Chakotay told us to leave him alone,” Seska said.

B’Elanna bristled at the reminder.

“And Tuvok too,” Henley put in helpfully.

“He’s a _p’tak_ too,” B’Elanna practically spit the words out.

“So, you agree with me?” Gerron asked, as if there had been no interruption. “That this isn’t going to work out?”

“I didn’t say that!” B’Elanna said, her voice loud enough that a few of the Starfleet officers at the other table turned to look at them. Seska shot her friend a warning look. “You come up with an actual plan, Gerron, then put it on the table. Otherwise you’re just shooting your mouth off.”

Gerron turned to Seska, appeal etched clearly across his face. “You’ve got to talk to Chakotay. What’s the point of him being first officer if he isn’t looking out for us?” His jaw tightened. “Does he really expect us to spend the next 70 years like this?”


	2. Chapter 2

In Engineering, Lieutenant Susan Nicoletti handed Seska a stack of PADDs.

“You can set up over there,” Nicoletti said with a casual flip of her hand towards a workstation. “Read through these operating guidelines, familiarize yourself with _Voyager’s_ diagnostics regime. Once you’re done with that, I’ll set you up with Vorik. He’ll run you through the procedures for a level one diagnostic.”

Seska stared at the PADDs, not bothering to conceal her dismay. “It will take the entire shift to cover this material.”

Nicoletti crossed her arms against her chest. “I went to the Academy for four years, have served on a variety of starships in the last five years, and spent the month prior to departing Utopia Planitia learning _Voyager’s_ systems like the back of my hand. I think you can spend a few hours getting up to speed.”

Seska narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know anything about _my_ background.”

Nicoletti shrugged. “It’s not necessary. You’re a Maquis, you were assigned to Engineering, and it’s my job to make sure you understand how this ship works.” She gestured again to the workstation. “I’ll come and check on you in an hour or so.”

Seska took the PADDs and settled herself into the seat Nicoletti had indicated. The manuals were dense, and more than a few times, Seska found herself dozing off to the soothing hum of the warp core. If only her colleagues in the Obsidian Order could see her. She’d graduated at the top of her class in Engineering, was a skilled combat officer, and well versed in tactical technology. That a Starfleet officer could speak to her so pedantically was beyond infuriating. But she needed to keep her cool. As B’Elanna had pointed out this morning, there was _no_ plan B. Chakotay had committed them to serving on _Voyager_ and in her heart of hearts, she was committed to Chakotay.

Her transformation from a top-level Cardassian operative into a Bajoran Maquis at first had been only skin deep and Chakotay had been trusting – and desperate – enough to admit her into his cell with very few questions. Her original assignment was to convey intelligence back to the Obsidian Order, especially when a Cardassian asset was marked as a potential target. That part of the mission was easily accomplished after participating in late-night sessions with Chakotay, B’Elanna, Bendera, and Ayala. Occasionally Ken Dalby would join them as well. What took her by surprise – what she had been warned about in her training – was the sense of attraction she felt towards the leader of the cell.

Chakotay had a quiet way about him, rarely raising his voice, and every now, a bit of tension sparking in his dark eyes. It was a calm and thoughtful way to lead, and Seska was fascinated by it. There were no threats, no torture, no punishments. Chakotay spoke, his soldiers listened, and the cell, for the most part was successful. And Seska _liked_ winning.

The first time with Chakotay had taken them both by surprise. She was alone, standing at the edge of their camp, staring out at the mountains as the sun set behind them. In the morning, they would leave this base to attack a Federation convey bringing replicators to Deep Space Nine. While she was watching, Chakotay came to stand next to her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It is.”

“Peaceful too,” he said.

Seska glanced at him sideways. “Are you having second thoughts about tomorrow?” In the six months she’d been with the cell, she hadn’t ever seen Chakotay back down from any situation, but she knew humans sometimes lacked sufficient courage. She’d briefed her handlers on the upcoming mission, but since the target was a Federation asset, they hadn’t seemed terribly interested. If Chakotay changed his mind about the mission, Seska decided she didn’t need to take the risk of sending a subspace message to alert her superiors about the change.

“No,” Chakotay said. “Just enjoying the scenery.” He scraped patterns in the dirt with the toe of his boot. “I had a similar view on my homeworld.”

Ah yes, the homeworld the Cardassians had destroyed. Seska waited for the rant to come but it never did. So she ventured, “It must have been really pretty there.”

“Yeah.”

In the fading light, Chakotay’s features were inscrutable but Seska heard – no, _felt_ – the weight of his monosyllabic response. Impulsively she took his hand. Chakotay seemed surprised but didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned forward and kissed her. At some point, as shadows disappeared and darkness took hold, she found herself on her back, Chakotay above her, and her own gasps of delight at the intensity of her reaction taking her by surprise.

After that night, she and Chakotay had sex often and she found that he quite frequently looked for her opinion first on a wide variety of topics. The new level of trust she had gained meant she was often the first to know certain things, even before B’Elanna and Ayala sometimes, and it was a position that she reveled in. Not only was she able to please her handlers with the quality of the intelligence she gave them, she was growing increasingly more skilled in satisfying Chakotay’s desires. She had never felt more powerful in her life.

And now she was on _Voyager_ , surrounded by manuals, and had been reduced to a mere ensign. She plowed through the dry, stilted language of the procedures, wondering how it was that Starfleet could complicate such simple things. As promised, Nicoletti came back at the one-hour mark, and then again, a couple of hours later. Nicoletti seemed dismayed by Seska’s lack of progress through the material.

“I’ve never served on a ship with bio-neural gel packs,” Seska said defensively.

“It’s state of the art technology and _Voyager_ is the first ship in the fleet to be equipped with them. The rest of the systems are straight forward,” said Nicoletti, with an audible puff of air. She put her hands on her hips. “Tell me, what _is_ your background? I assumed you must have some engineering experience, or you wouldn’t have been assigned to Engineering.”

“I do have experience,” Seska said disdainfully. “In getting things done efficiently. But all these _procedures.._. When you’re in a firefight, the last thing you’re doing is looking at a manual for the answer.” She dropped the PADD she was reading on the floor with a decisive clunk. “Studying these is a waste of time.”

“When you came aboard, you agreed to follow Starfleet procedures and regulations,” Nicoletti said. Just the very sound of her voice grated on Seska’s nerves. Nicoletti curled her fingers into fists at her side. “If you’re not willing to follow orders, I’m going to recommend to Lieutenant Carey that you should be re-assigned. I hear the maintenance department is always looking for help.”

Seksa’s jaw tightened, her Bajoran skin feeling very tight across her face. “For one week now, I’ve done _nothing_ but read manuals,” Seska said. “But you know that problem you’ve been having with the plasma relays? Have you thought about checking the frictional forces and re-adjusting the plasma flow to compensate?” At Nicoletti’s confused look, Seska said, “Of course not. Because the manual tells you to take the entire manifold apart, re-align the valves, and then inspect the couplings before re-injecting the plasma – a procedure that would take at least two hours.” Seska paused to take a breath. “I just saved you a whole bunch of time _and_ you get to look like a hero to Lieutenant Carey. You can thank me later.” Her face was extremely hot now, as she swept past Nicoletti, and nearly knocking over a pompous Vulcan as well.

“Seska!” Joe Carey called out.

Seska turned on to face the acting chief engineer. “What?”

“Where are you going? Your shift doesn’t end for another four hours,” Carey told her. “I don’t know what you’re used to, but aboard a Starfleet vessel you don’t just leave mid-shift without permission.”

“She’s Maquis. What do you expect?” Nicoletti asked with a disdainful toss of her head.

“A little bit of respect would be nice,” Seska said hotly. She gestured towards the pile of PADDs now scattered on the floor. By now, she’d attracted the attention of every engineer in the room. “In terms of experience, I’m just as good as the rest of you, and you want to know something else? B’Elanna Torres is a much better engineer than all of you put together.”

“Maybe you should take a break after all,” Carey said. “And lieutenant, if I could see you—”

“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Seska didn’t bother to hide her incredulity. Oh, how she wanted to rub those smug expressions off the Starfleet officers’ faces – hiding behind their uniforms, their Starfleet uniforms, the little round pips on their collars. Her earlier equanimity was fast disappearing. “She started it.”

Carey just looked flustered. “Just, go,” he said. “Go to your quarters, or get something to eat, and then come back in one hour.” He said, pointedly, to Nicoletti, “I need to talk to you.”

Well aware that all activity had ceased and all attention was now on her, Seska slowly turned and left Engineering.


	3. Chapter 3

Seska entered the turbolift just down the corridor from the main Engineering doors.

“Deck 9,” she said as she leaned against the turbolift wall, her arms crossed against her chest. She felt like an errant child, and it was nothing less than humiliating. She knew she needed to keep the peace, support Chakotay in his new role, until they could come up with a better plan. Mentally she ticked off the options: cooperate with Janeway, asked to be left on the first M-class planet to fend for themselves, or take over the ship. The first option seemed to be the most obvious, but also the most fraught with risk for her. The longer she stayed on _Voyager_ , subject to their protocols including medical exams, the greater the danger of being discovered. If staying on the ship was the best option, then possibly she could plead her case to Janeway, citing the Federation’s treaty with Cardassia and asking for asylum. She was still thinking through the consequences of revealing her true identity to Janeway when the turbolift doors opened and to her surprise, Chakotay was standing here. He seemed equally astonished to see her as well.

“Hi,” Seska said, immediately straightening up.

“What are you doing here in the middle of your shift? I thought you would be in Engineering.”

She smiled. _Of course,_ Chakotay would know her schedule. “I was, but it got a little tense and I needed some time. Or at least, that’s what Lieutenant Carey said. Honestly, he’s completely unsuited for the role of chief engineer.”

“Lieutenant Carey, I understand, is an excellent officer and his service record is impeccable,” Chakotay said.

Seska snorted. “ _Everyone_ has a perfect service record on this ship, but they don’t actually know how to do anything! They hide behind their manuals and regulations and procedures, all the while looking down their noses at us and discounting our own equally valid, if not superior, experience.” Seska lip curled. “Tell me you haven’t noticed their attitude, how they think we’re not as good as they are?”

“I’m sure you’re misinterpreting what they said,” Chakotay said. “It’s been less than a week. We’re still getting to know each other.”

“I am _not_ misinterpreting anything. You always said I had a good instinct when it comes to people, and I’m telling you, they’re treating us like we don’t know anything and have nothing valuable to offer. This isn’t going to work, Chakotay. Starfleet and Maquis, it’s like trying to combine oil and water.”

“Give it time.”

“Time for _what_?” Seska’s eyes narrowed as she studied Chakotay. “Wait. You have something in mind, don’t you? A plan to take over the ship?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Or at least a plan to do _something_. You can’t believe this state of affairs can actually continue to exist, do you?” Seska braced herself as the turbolift jerked to a stop.

“I’m not planning to do anything but what I’m doing now. Captain Janeway asked me to be her first officer. She said, and I agree, that it’s in our best interests to work together to return to the Alpha Quadrant.”

Seska stared at him. The calm demeanor she had so admired back in the Alpha Quadrant was nothing but infuriating now. “Are you serious? We’re surrounded by enemies – these Kazon are just the first. This crew is so soft. The Delta Quadrant is going to chew them up and spit them out. We shouldn’t even have been stranded here in the first place! To prevent the situation from getting even worse, we have to take control. At the very least, we can show them how to _fight_.”

“No. That’s not how we’re going to play it. I gave Janeway my word, and I intend to keep it.” Chakotay held up his hand. The turbo lift doors slid open onto deck 9 and Chakotay stepped half out, so that the doors wouldn’t close on him. “Seska, I need your cooperation to make this work. Don’t let me down.”

“Don’t let _you_ down?” Seska couldn’t keep the rising fury out of her voice. She followed him into the corridor. “Look around you, Chakotay! You left Starfleet once—”

“I had my reasons. I had to avenge the destruction of my homeworld by the Cardassians—”

“And now you’re joining forces with the very people whom you blame for abandoning your world.”

“Our situation had changed—”

“Look, the Maquis are unhappy,” Seska said. She started walking, aware of other officers watching them. How she hated the sight of all of those Starfleet uniforms. “It’s been nearly a week, and we are very clearly second-class citizens on this ship. What are you doing about it?”

“Trust me.”

His placidity dialed up her anger even more. “Trust you? You made a deal with the devil!”

“Now you’ve gone too far.” Chakotay pushed her against the wall, his hands on her shoulders. Her breath came out in short bursts. There was something exciting about this, reminded her of the most recent time they had had sex – hard, fast, breathless. Now, like then, wasn’t the time for softness. There was something about his body pressed up against hers, his breath warm on her skin, the way his dark eyes held her gaze. If only she could get him alone, she knew she could bend his mind to her will. “You need to calm down.”

Seska’s eyes widened. He sounded _just_ like Joe Carey. What was it about these humans? She snarled at him and pushed him away. “I don’t want to calm down,” she said. “What I want is to know that you still think that we Maquis matter, or have you disappeared into that uniform?”

“Seska.”

She shook her head. “We need you, Chakotay. _I_ need you. The only thing we have left now is each other. Don’t you see that?” She took a step closer to him, cupped his cheek with her hand. Chakotay gently lifted her hand away. “We could take this ship, Chakotay. We could. These Starfleet types, they would never see it coming.”

His jaw was set. “I gave my word,” he said. With that, he turned and walked back towards the turbolift.


	4. Chapter 4

After an hour of cooling down in her quarters, Seska returned to Engineering to finish her shift. To her relief, Nicoletti was nowhere to be seen and Carey told her to start working with Vorik on a level one diagnostic. It was dull work, but at least it wasn’t reading manuals. The shift passed relatively easily and at the conclusion, she shuffled out with the others. Her stomach was grumbling – she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast – so she decided to head to the mess hall. As she approached the turbolift, she heard someone’s footsteps behind her. She turned toward the sound to see Tom Paris.

“Good to see you again, Seska,” Tom said.

Seska rolled her fingers into fists at her side, a movement that Tom noticed. “You’re a damn fool, Paris,” Seska said through gritted teeth.

“Should I be worried about sharing a turbolift with you?” he said with a slight laugh, but his blue eyes betrayed unease as he glanced at her waist, as if anticipating the dagger she had always carried while in the Maquis.

“I could ask you the same question,” Seska said. The turbolift doors opened and Tom gestured for her to enter before him. _Human chivalry_ _was weakness at its most elegant_ , Seska thought. She stepped to the side. The doors closed. 

“How have you been?” Paris said with the smug-face arrogance so typical of the smooth faced humans. And that penchant for small talk! “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Seska waved his comment off impatiently. “Deck 2. You might have saved Chakotay’s life down on Ocampa, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

“Never asked you to, but we’re going to be stuck together on this ship for a long time,” Tom said.

“Not if I can help it.”

Paris arched his eyebrow at her as the turbolift lurched to a stop. As the doors opened, he asked, “You have a plan to get home sooner? You know of a wormhole? Or you planning to hijack a convoy and steal their warp drive? Form an alliance with the Kazon? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a hitchhiker if the price was right.” He gave a little bit of a laugh. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You always have something up your sleeve, don’t you? Never know which way the wind is blowing with you.”

Seska scowled. “At least I didn’t sell myself to the highest bidder and cut and run when the going got tough. I _never_ forgot my mission or what I’m working for. Which is more than I can say for you.” She turned down the corridor to head to the Mess Hall and was annoyed when Paris appeared to be heading that way as well.

“Hey, I get it,” he said. “You don’t like me. There are 148 people on this ship who share that opinion.”

“Must be tough. Admiral’s son who has failed at everything he tried,” Seska said with a sneer. They were nearly at the Mess Hall doors now. “Even with, as you humans say, everything handed on a silver platter to you.”

Paris’s expression didn’t change. “Are you done yet?”

Seska felt a bubble of rage forming in her chest. How could he stand there in his Starfleet uniform with his perfect Starfleet sideburns, radiating self-importance and confidence? “You were a pitiful excuse of a Starfleet officer, a lousy mercenary, and an insult to the Maquis,” she answered coolly, but then someone placed a hand on her arm.

“Leave it alone,” B’Elanna said quietly. Her gaze flitted to the side and that’s when Seska noticed the two security officers off to the side, their hands resting on phasers. “This isn’t the time.”

Seska whirled in fury on her friend. “B’Elanna—”

“I’m serious,” B’Elanna said, inserting herself between Paris and Seska. “Not now.” She tipped her head towards the Mess Hall. “Go get something to eat.”

“Whose side are you on anyway?” Seska demanded.

There was just the slightest of hesitations before B’Elanna said, “You know the answer to that.” She looked at Paris. “Chakotay told us to leave you alone and I’m going to honor that.” She narrowed her eyes at Seska. “And so are you.”

“Thanks,” Paris said. “Didn’t feel like getting my face rearranged tonight.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” B’Elanna said as she pushed past him. 

Seska found dinner tedious. Even with B’Elanna’s company, she felt like an island in the middle of a sea of Starfleet officers. The chatter rose and fell in predictable cadence, but Seska didn’t have much to say. She still didn’t know what to make of her earlier encounter with Chakotay and it worried her that she might be losing ground with him. She had to re-assert herself, persuade him to take an action that would be in _her_ best interest.

As she contemplated her options, she had to admit – painful as it was – that B’Elanna had been right. A confrontation with Tom Paris was the exact wrong thing to do right now. Instead, she needed to bide her time while she plotted her next move – the one most likely to preserve her secret _and_ keep Chakotay at her side.

“Seska?” B’Elanna was watching her carefully. “What is it?”

“I was lost in thought,” Seska said, injecting a note of apology into her voice. “Sorry.” She put down her spoon. They – Ayala, Gerron, Dalby, Henley and B’Elanna – were all staring at her. “I’m really tired. I think I’m going to go to bed. Hope you actually get to do something worthwhile on shift tonight.”

B’Elanna made a face. “I’m not counting on it.”

Out in the corridor, Seska stopped in front of the turbolift. She pressed the button and then remembering what happened with Chakotay earlier in the day, she took a step backwards. His quarters were on deck 2, not far from where she was standing. A quick check of the computer showed that Chakotay was indeed in his quarters.

She backed away from the turbolift and headed towards the section of deck 2 where the officers’ quarters were located. She knew Janeway’s quarters were nearby, and Tuvok also had his quarters on this deck. From a tactical standpoint, it was another sign of poor planning on Starfleet’s part. On a Cardassian ship, it was rare for all the officers to have their quarters in the same part of the ship. How easy it would be take hostages in this set up!

She rounded the corner and stopped short as she saw Janeway standing in front of the first officer’s quarters. Seska hung back as the doors slid open.

“Chakotay,” Janeway said, her voice low and intimate. “I have a question for you that I didn’t get around to asking you earlier.”

Chakotay smiled. “No problem, Captain, what can I do for you?”

Janeway gestured. “May I come in?”

He stood aside immediately so she could enter, and Seska saw his eyes travel the length of the captain’s figure. His smile broadened. “Of course.”

The doors slid shut behind them. Seska blinked, trying to understand what she had just seen. After a few moments, she reversed course and returned to her quarters. 


End file.
